


Lazy Mornings

by livinglittlelie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU where no one went to space and there is no Galra invading, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, domestic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 17:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18525874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livinglittlelie/pseuds/livinglittlelie
Summary: Keith wasn't used to lazy mornings. However, with Lance by his side, he felt he could indulge himself a little.





	Lazy Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically some writing warm-up that got too serious, hence why the lack of plot. But it was cute and I thought, hell, let's post it.
> 
> So, enjoy!

Waking up felt like taking in a deep breath after drifting underwater for a while. 

Keith blinked his eyes open, the soft light of dawn making his eyes sting, as if he was directly looking at the sun. There was an unfamiliar smell surrounding him, fresh like the sea breeze but intertwined with something sweet and soft like vanilla, strong enough he could almost taste it. 

When his eyes finally blinked the drowsiness away and took a glimpse at his surroundings, face still half-buried in a too fluffy pillow, he really did feel he was underwater. Navy blue blankets pooled around him, almost swallowing him whole, and walls as clear as a bright blue sky surrounded him. There were some pictures scattered around, full of smiling faces that looked familiar, but that he couldn’t really name. 

He saw himself in some of them, too. Which was surprising, because he didn’t like taking pictures of himself. But instead of his usual scowl of annoyance, his face was soft, eyes looking somewhere else.

He couldn’t remember taking those pictures. It made his curiosity spike up the more he looked at them. 

If he felt like it, he could get up to get a proper look at them, to try to make a guess on what he was looking at and sate his growing curiosity, but his body refused to move. He felt too comfortable, too safe in that big nest of sheets, blankets and pillows. So, instead, he snuggled down and pulled the blankets closer, taking a deep breath of sea breeze and vanilla before closing his eyes again. 

Keith wasn’t used to lazy mornings. They were a thing of the past, something only reserved to the Keith who still lived in that little house by the edge of the desert. The Keith whose dad slept in the room beside his, snoring the morning away after a long night shift. 

Lazy mornings was another one of the many things he lost when the fire took his father away, the sole loser of a decades-long battle between a human soul and the force of nature. No matter how bright his father burned, in the end, he was consumed by the fire’s intensity, just like everything else in its path. 

After that night, Keith’s mornings became a rush to the kitchen to get the biggest portion for breakfast at the orphanage. Then, Shiro adopted him—despite everyone else around them arguing that he was too young, that he was throwing his life away—but Keith had been too on guard to relax, wary of everyone and everything. 

After all, he was still waiting for Shiro to throw him away when it became too annoying to take care of him.

The space that had become his new home felt too strange, too unknown to completely relax, even when Keith finally understood Shiro wouldn’t leave him behind. He was so used to being defensive that he didn’t feel comfortable changing that routine. 

Lazy mornings filled with laughter, half-burnt toasts, and way too much jam never came back again.

But in there, in that safe haven where time seemed to stand still, Keith felt strangely at peace. That sense of self-preservation was nowhere to be found, satisfaction filling him inside-out instead.

Slowly but surely, even when his thoughts were on standby, memories of why he was in that room in the first place slowly came to mind. 

That was Lance’s room. He had invited Keith over for dinner to show off his new flat, just three weeks after moving out of the Garrison facilities. Long gone were the days where they had to sneak into each other’s rooms at night, tucked together into a ratty bunk bed that wasn’t designed to hold more than one person on them. 

Those days were full of hesitant touches and tentative advances, of getting to know each other and messing up again and again. They were full of arguing and fighting, personalities clashing, and making up until they slowly fell in sync. 

To be honest, Keith was glad those days were already behind them. Things were simple now, easy, and he felt more comfortable in his own skin than he’d ever been before. He found himself occasionally reminiscing old times, though, where every little thing was new and scary and wonderful. 

Again, he was glad that was a thing of the past. He preferred the adult Lance—or well, as adult as he would ever be—than that bratty boy that decided Keith would be his rival. 

They did a bit of reminiscing last night, too, after Lance suddenly started bringing food from the kitchen for at least five people instead of two. He argued he only knew to cook for one or for ten, and there was no in-between. 

Keith still wolfed down as much as he could, until there were almost no leftovers.

They talked of old times and future plans, of well-known anecdotes and little stories they somehow hadn’t shared with each other yet. Overfed and overtired, they moved it to the living room, leaving all the dirty dishes on the table. They fell on the couch in unison, and Lance grabbed the remote to scroll through Netflix while Keith curled around him like a needy cat.

After arguing for fifteen minutes about what to watch, they decided to pick a random series Netflix recommended, which ended up turning into a competition on who could spat louder at the tv, pointing out stupid plot holes and plot twists that made no sense at all. They roasted every character that was introduced, and scoffed at any kind of romantic development happening between characters with no chemistry at all.  

They decided to stop watching the series when the neighbors banged at the wall for the third time. 

One film became two, and thirty minutes into their third one had them nodding off against each other. They woke up with the sound of the remote hitting the floor, but knew they would just fall asleep if they kept watching, so they stumbled together into Lance’s room.

Lance quickly fetched an old t-shirt and loose pants from his enormous wardrobe and threw it at Keith’s face, the latter too tired to catch them mid-air or react at all. 

He changed on auto-pilot, and he fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Keith let out a breathy chuckle as he curled more into himself, hugging the pillow against his face. Yesterday had felt… nice. Great, even. It had been overly domestic, something he had thought it would chase him away from any situation, like, ever. He avoided going house-shopping with Shiro like the plague and bought all his sleepwear and towels from Amazon. He went to Ikea by himself and brought home two sets of plates before Shiro could suggest it, and kept…  _ borrowing  _ clean towels at the Garrison to avoid washing them.

He hated domestics, and he died a little inside every time he had to sit still. But apparently, he liked being domestic with Lance. He’d liked those still, quiet moments with him, and, as dreadful as it sounded in his head, he wouldn’t mind getting even more domestic with him.

Maybe that was just his sleepy mind talking, though.

“I see you’re making yourself at home, samurai.”

Keith opened his eyes and turned on the bed to look at Lance. He was resting on the doorway, a too-big shirt that looked like one of Keith's—and that probably disappeared from his wardrobe years ago—hanging from his shoulders, and holding two steamy mugs of what smelled like coffee. Keith hid his smile against the pillow, and he stretched on the bed like a lazy cat until his joints popped.

He heard Lance’s chuckle before the bed dipped under his weight when he sat beside him. Keith turned his head to the side to look at Lance from the corner of his eye, catching a glimpse of a well-rested face and fond eyes as he placed the mugs on the bedside table. 

Those clear eyes shifted to him, and one of his hands found their way to his hair, carefully combing Keith’s tangled locks with his fingers.

“Your hair looks like a bird’s nest that was knocked off a tree by the wind and crashed to the ground, leaving a sad, crumpled mess behind.”

“I love you, too,” Keith tried to sound sarcastic, even if those fingers were steadily turning him into putty. 

Lance leaned forward, a smirk on his face. “Luckily,  I find destroyed bird nests incredibly attractive.”

Keith snorted. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve said this week, and you said you could, and I quote, ‘totally teach flamingos to dance la Macarena like a pro’ on Tuesday.”

“Oh, but that kind of stuff is what makes me unforgettable, isn’t it?” Lance snickered.

Keith felt tempted to roll his eyes. He would have followed through if he wasn’t so damn comfortable.

“You’re so ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it.”

That might be true, but Lance didn’t have the right to be so smug about it.

Keith decided not to say anything, though. Instead, he closed his eyes, enjoying Lance’s gentle touch through his hair. His fingers traveled to the back of Keith's neck, his soft scratching making him let out a hum in appreciation.

Lance cupped the back of his neck, massaging him with his thumb to call for his attention. “Hey babe, look at me? Please?”

Keith sighed and turned his head to the side, shooting him a questioning look. Lance’s smile softened, eyes roaming all over his face. He brushed some stray hairs away from Keith’s face, fingertips lingering on his cheek.

“God, you look so good here in my bed. I could really get used to the sight.”

Keith chuckled, turning on his back. He stretched a little and settled down again, sighing in contentment. Lance’s smile widened at the sight and grabbed Keith’s hand, playing with his fingers before intertwining them together.

“Knowing you, you wouldn’t even let me step out of the room.”

Lance’s smile turned into a teasing grin. “Well, I don’t know about that… I guess I could let you out of the room from time to time, as long as you’re in my bed every night looking like this.” He let his eyes roam down. “And if you want to wear fewer clothes, well, I certainly won’t stop you.”

“And what’s in for me?”

Lance lied on his side beside him, facing Keith. He rested his weight on his bent arm, still looming above him, and the wide neck of his old t-shirt shifted to show even more of his shoulder. He looked down to their still joined hands, teasing Keith’s fingers with his thumbs.

“Well, you would have a delicious feast like last time waiting for you in every meal, Netflix marathons every night and kisses and cuddles whenever you request it. And well, any other conditions could be negotiated.”

Keith rose his head to brush his lips against Lance’s. “Stop talking or I’ll be really tempted to stay here forever.”

“I certainly wouldn’t complain if you did,” Lance joked.

However, there was something else underneath his lighthearted tone; a hesitance that Keith caught onto almost instantly. He put some distance between them, really looking at Lance. His smile had turned a bit sheepish, and Keith’s heartbeat sped up when it dawned on him the implications of what he’d just said.

“Are you…” He licked his lips to catch up with his rushed thoughts. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

Lance averted his eyes and shrugged. “Not asking, just... suggesting, I guess. The flat’s big enough for two people, and I’m not really used to living by myself. And, well, I’d love to have you here. With me.” He looked back at Keith, shooting him a nervous smile. “It’s something to think about, don’t you think?”

“Okay.”

Lance blinked in surprise. “Huh?”

Keith bit his lower lip, feeling a bit bashful. “I’ll… think about it. I mean, I need to tell Shiro so he can find someone else to share a flat with, and take care of some stuff… but yeah. I’ll think about it.”

“... Cool,” Lance finally said, his lips quirking up in a mix of excitement and nervousness. He dropped a light kiss on his lips. “Let me know when you come to a decision.”

“I will. Now, can you get in bed like a normal person? Just looking at you makes me feel cold.”

Lance looked down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“It’s too light. Get in here already.”

“The coffee will go cold, though.”

Keith couldn’t care less about the coffee. He wanted Lance to join him in his lazy morning and hug him properly. He wanted to bask in the warmth of his body while he thought about his proposition, and he couldn’t do that when he refused to get under the covers.

He unexpectedly tugged at Lance’s shirt, making him faceplant on a pool of cushions and blankets. “Quiznak the coffee, already. We can reheat it later.”

“Aw, Keith! I love it when you get grumpy.”

Keith glared at him, but before he could retort, Lance got under the covers with him. Two arms immediately snuck around Keith’s middle, tugging him closer until his head rested against Lance’s chest, far from being as fluffy as the pillows but still warm and comfortable. The smell of a fresh sea breeze and vanilla was more intense there, and Keith closed his eyes to bask in the aroma. 

That numbing feeling of floating in the water returned, and Keith let his whole body relax, turning limp in Lance’s arms. Lance, in response, started combing his hair again, and Keith smiled against his ratty, old t-shirt. 

He could get used to this. The idea of moving in was more tempting by the minute.

Lance hummed against his hair. “To be honest, you surprised me this morning.”

“Hm?”

“I didn't see you as a lazy mornings kind of guy, that’s all. At the Garrison you were normally up before me, and I don’t remember ever seeing you lounging around in your bed like today. You looked like a big kitten.”

Keith shrugged in his arms. “I might indulge myself more from now on.”

After all, if all lazy mornings felt like these from then on, he was ready to embrace them.


End file.
